World of Inquiries
by Kvaes Varetnai
Summary: New and Improved version! A girl pursued by the Spanish Inquisition is rescued by two unlikely heroes... from another world. Spiriting her back to Kaeleer, Daemon and Lucivar put her into the care of Jaenelle. How will she cope? Time will tell...
1. Prologue: A New Beginning

Earth x BJT

Chapter One

(On Earth during the 1800s – Approx. the time of the Spanish Inquisition)

"Quickly! Find the witch!" A hard, voice cut through the still night air, the silver moonlight gilding the swamp with a pure light. The shadows of the swampy lands seemed to hinder their movement, as though it was protecting the life of the woman-child they were hunting.

"Can't you go any faster you buffoons? She can't be far away!" The man snarled, moving the people around like puppets. After decades of doing the directing, he had them running to do his bidding and jumping like scalded cats when he was angry.

Shivering with pain, fatigue and fear, the woman-child crept through the wetlands, a piece of thick leather clenched between her teeth to prevent any noise from escaping as she forced her brutalized feet to hold her weight. The soft ground was riddled with sharp pebbles and sticks, forcing her to move even slower despite the predicament she was in. Sucking in a breath of air sharply as a twig caught at her cheek she bent slightly, her light clothing already stiff with blood from the welts covering her back, arms and legs. She shifted and swore silently as she felt a multitude of the wounds open again, the cloth rubbeing over them. Suddenly all feeling left her legs and she collapsed less than gracefully into a heap at the base of a tree, tears leaking from her mismatched eyes and stinging the ragged wounds on her face and lips. The moon seemed to glimmer at her as she lifted her eyes to the heavens, words of prayer and supplication flowing from her lips.

'Please, Great Goddess. Protect your daughter, I beg of you.' She implored, lifting her arms above her in entreaty. The effort it took to raise her arms seemed to double as the strength that had held her up seeped away and she crumpled, like a feather before the storm. Wavering on the edge of unconsciousness, she felt a surge of power and warmth; hope rising in her as the sound of her pursuers grew closer. Strong arms picked her up and as the flood of pain swept her into the darkness, she heard a male voice rumble, "I've found her."

* * *

The blind hope in the girl's eyes was more than he could bear, and as he felt her slip into blessed unconsciousness Lucivar gently cradled her to his chest, knowing that he was going to have to cause her a little bit more pain before he could try and make it better. Her sigh of relief made him smile, but as he felt her temperature drop at an alarming rate as she went limp in his arms he swore profusely.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit! Daemon, can you put a warming spell on this blanket?" He asked quietly, acknowledging her unspoken fear of the men trying to find her.

"Of course, but we will have to wait another three minutes for the Gate to reopen. Jaenelle said that it was the best she could do under the circumstances." Daemon said, his voice seeming to calm the girl even further as what was left of the tension in her body drained away. Suddenly, the sound of an object crashing through the bush intruded on their attempt at saving the girl's life, and without hesitation, they prepared for the worst.

"Hey! You there! You found the witch!" A cruel voice observed excitedly, and a man stepped into the light, his unkempt clothing and bad personal hygiene making Lucivar and Daemon glad they were outside where the smell was dispersed by fresh air.

"Yes we did." Daemon agreed readily, crossing his arms as he evaluated the man with a glance. Sighing he ran a hand through his hair, the mussed look making him look as if he had just rolled out of bed; an effect which had a disconcerting effect on the man before him.

"Then hand her over. We will be able to continue this at the town hall." The brute continued a slight hesitation breaking his voice as he observed Daemon's beauty under the moonlight. Fear of the unknown men warred with lust as he drank in the sight in front of him.

"Continue? With what, pray tell?" Daemon asked, his voice a seductive combination of silk and velvet, his golden eyes almost glowing with latent cruelty as he crossed his arms and tapped his long, tinted nails against his sleeve.

"Her trial, punishment; and if she doesn't die before hand from torture, her execution." The man explained with exaggerated simplicity, as though they were simpletons, wondering if they were just playing dumb for sport.

"And what was her crime?" Lucivar growled, his eyes flashing icy fire as the clearing grew colder.

"She was found practicing witchcraft and mixing potions." The man said, turning to Lucivar and blinking in horror as the clouds shifted and revealed what had previously been hidden in shadows. Lucivar's wings.

"You're the witch's demon familiars come to tempt the righteous from the path of God, but I will not be swayed by your evil ways. Be gone with thee foul devils, in the name of Christ I compel you." The man cried, and they looked at each other sardonically as the man gaped at them in astonishment. Opening his mouth to scream, he didn't even see Lucivar swing his war blade. No sound left his lips as the cold steel slice through his neck, silently beheading him. Cleaning his blade on the man's shirt, Lucivar turned back to Daemon.

"This happened because she was practicing _Craft_?!" He whispered, outrage quickly turning to alarm as the girl began to turn a deathly pale. Shifting her to a more comfortable position, he strode forward towards the Gate and prayed to the Darkness Jaenelle had had enough time to prepare again.

The Gate sprang open with a soft command, and carrying their precious burden, they returned to their world, leaving behind a bloody present for Matthew Hopkins, the Witchfinder General.


	2. Chapter 1: Trust Is Hard To Come By

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Anne Bishop's wonderful characters… no matter how much I would like to!!!!**

**Please read and review, is my first fanfic!**

Chapter Two

Stepping into the clearing, Daemon and Lucivar quickly realized they had taken one of the Gates to the Sanctuary, not at SaDiablo Hall but further abroad, the thought of the girl in more pain than she should be tugging at the Code of Honor embedded deep within their psyche.

"We will wait here for Jaenelle to give us the signal; otherwise this will take more time than we have." Lucivar growled, pulling his temper back under check when he realized he was riding the Killing edge. When he noticed Daemon do the same thing, Lucivar smiled wryly. It wasn't often that Sadi overcame his aversion to females; but when he did, he protected and cared for them as if they were the most precious things in the world. Wandering over to a stream, Lucivar sighed, when the girl got back to full health, they were going to have to feed her up a bit.

Drawing in a pained breath, the woman-child allowed herself a moment of comfort, for she had never felt as safe in her life; before realizing with horror she was being carried by a man. Struggling with all her might, heedless of her injuries, she rolled out of his arms, desperation making her heedless of her injuries. Scrabbling in the dirt, she found her bearings before scampering backward until her back hit a tree, causing her to clench her teeth deeper into the soft tissue on the inside of her lip.

The two men in front of her were staring with concern and horror at her face, and she suddenly realized it was daytime. Desperately she turned her face away, certain this was another ploy to torture her for information or a confession. Flinching as one of them reached towards her, she unclenched her teeth, prepared to use them to fight; she had learnt over her captivity that a well placed bite could spell the end for any human.

"Easy there, easy. You're going to be alright." The larger man said gently, his low voice offering her comfort, which she was hesitant to accept, the words spoken in a language that was hauntingly familiar. Wrinkling her brow as she tried to remember, she was instead struck with memories of her captivity. Clearing her throat, she winced in pain as she remembered how she had screamed it raw on her first day.

*Somehow I can't believe you.* She whispered, using her telepathy to save her throat. Surprise registered on the faces of both men, and a flood of terror caused her to whimper; now they knew for certain she was a witch.

"Daemon, help me out here." The large man grumbled, turning looking towards the man beside him, his desperation to make her understand they weren't trying to hurt her goading his actions. Daemon stepped forward, and she shrank back, opening more wounds on the rough bark of the tree as she tried to stay out of arms reach. Tossing her head to keep the long red hair out of her face, she clung to a branch, determined to remain standing.

"My name is Daemon, and this is my brother Lucivar." Daemon said and was surprised when cynical laughter echoed through their heads.

* Oh sure, pretend to be the devil's of Hell and get me on your side; then torture me to death for being the Whore of Satan. Thanks but no.* The girl said, her voice defiant, puzzling the men until they thought over her words.

"Why would that happen? Father wouldn't do something like that to a young girl, even if he still had the ability." Lucivar mumbled and the girl looked at them in an assessing way before sighing.

*Okay, little lesson in the ways of God. Satan originally was an angel, along with Lucivar and Beelzebub. They decided they knew best and wanted to have free will, so God cast them down from Heaven. Then God created man, and those who followed him devotedly were allowed passage into Heaven, and those who didn't were worshippers of Satan who used them as he saw fit. Therefore, by killing all those who don't follow God, you are essentially wiping out Satan's influence on the world.* She explained slowly and carefully to them, trying to gauge whether or not they were going to take offense to the way she had just described the Christian religion. Instead the men just looked at each other and smiled.

"Maybe in your world that is the way things happen, but things are a little less strict around here."

"You aren't in your own world anymore. You are going to have to trust us to keep you safe." Daemon crooned softly, and she felt tears spill down her battered cheeks as indecision wracked her body. Trying to contain what little power she had control over, she felt the tears on her cheeks crystallize into diamonds. Swiping them away with the back of her hand, she sat up cautiously, hesitantly reaching out a mangled hand to Daemon, her eyes wary as she put her life into their hands.

*We need to get her to Jaenelle as quickly as possible." Daemon whispered after examining her via psychic waves. It was amazing she had actually managed to stay in the world of the living for so long considering all the damage that had been done to her.

*Let's get going then." Lucivar grimaced, watching the woman-child struggle to her feet. Grasping her arms, they lifted her and gently carried her between them to the Landing Web, knowing that any delay now might put her life at risk. Launching themselves onto the Ebon-gray Wind, they headed towards the Keep; and the only person in the world who had the power to heal such injuries; the Queen of the Darkness.


	3. Chapter 2: The Shape Of A Soul

**Disclaimer: Still don't own the characters, but I own the books or a copy of them anyway!!! Um… just in case you're wondering, the purge of the realms has been postponed until Daemonar is of adulthood.**

**A/N: Please be patient….. I won't give her a name until chapter five! Please, have mercy on the author of the fanfic who has only just started writing.**

Chapter Three

"Saetan? Papa?" Jaenelle called out, her voice dragging his mind from the revere it had sunken into. Stretching experimentally, Saetan looked at her with interest as she gazed unseeingly at the doors before them.

"Yes Witch-child?" He sighed, worried about the perpetual darkness of Dorethea and Hekatah spreading through the land, yet unable to shake the growing worry that Jaenelle wasn't telling him everything that concerned him unless it affected him directly.

"Daemon and Lucivar have found her and are making their way back here." She informed him as light flashed on the Landing web and three figures appeared. The slight figure in the middle crumpled forward, Daemon and Lucivar gently picking her up and carrying forward towards Jaenelle and Saetan. The pitiful sight it created reminded Saetan painfully of the instance when he had first seen Marian enter the Realm and the rage the Queen had unleashed because of it. Glancing uneasily at Jaenelle, he was relieved to see her eyes were still the colour of the summer sky.

"She's lost a lot of blood, Jaenelle." Lucivar whispered, lowering the unconscious girl onto the low couch beside Saetan's desk, her head lolling limply as the colour seemed to drain from her face. Shrugging out of her coat, Jaenelle summoned a bowl of water to her and washed her hands thoroughly before kissing Daemon on the cheek and turning to the task at hand.

Kneeling beside the couch, she clasped one of the girl's hands and flooded her weakening life force with her dark power. Immediately colour suffused the girl's cheeks, the cuts healing and the welts fading from her body. Watching with concern, Lucivar paced, not wanting to look at Jaenelle's expression of intense concentration, the amount of power that she was pouring into the healing of this girl was shocking. It was as if Jaenelle wanted to make sure nothing that was hurt or broken stayed that way and was healed to the best of her abilities.

Finally she blinked and sat back, accepting the glass Saetan offered. Sipping at the potion with a marked lack of enthusiasm, Jaenelle sighed. The bolstering properties of the liquid added colour to her skin, but her expression remained one of hesitancy.

"Never before have I seen a power such as the one this girl carries; it's as though her soul is constantly shifting from one form to another. It is very complex and I doubt I will be able to understand the full story until I have talked to the girl. I have healed her body, but I am uncertain as to the condition of her mind. It is deeper and more multifaceted than anything else on this earth." She announced worriedly, raising her eyes. The men in the room stared at her in something akin to shock. If Jaenelle thought something was strange or interesting, it was something to look out for. After all, she was Witch. Wrinkling her nose at the bloodstained clothes on the girl, Jaenelle shooed the males out of the room before floating the woman-child through to the en-suite. Running a basin full of water, Jaenelle started to wash the dried blood from the woman-child's hair and face.

Slowly, hair the colour of gleaming copper was revealed, the water in the basin becoming a murky brown. Satisfied with her handiwork, she stripped off the ragged, bloody clothes and called in a nightgown which she slipped over the girl's head, making it loll limply on her shoulders.

Tucking her into a guest bed, Jaenelle quietly left the room, leaving Kaelas and Ladvarian to watch over the girl.

* * *

Prying open her eyes with some difficulty, the woman-child slowly adjusted her focus to try and decide what sort of creature was lying at the foot of her bed. The body looked feline in composition but other than that, the size and general layout of the animal was different from anything she had come across before.

*I am an Arcerian cat.* The psychic voice was smug and a large tail flicked with mock irritation. Sitting up slowly, the girl noticed the room wasn't spinning with quite the frequency that it had been when she was last awake. Closing her eyes she concentrated on the feeling of the room around her and found it was as safe as it could be, considering she didn't know where she was.

*What are you doing young one? The room and the Hall are the safest places around, there's no need to scan for danger.* The dog said and she popped open her eyes in surprise, staring at the dog and feline with suspicion.

* Are you really talking to me? Or is this some sort of pain induced coma-dream?* She asked, surprise flavouring her psychic scent, and causing the animals to look at each other with a look that could only be described as uncomfortable.

*Indeed we are; I take it the animals of your world don't speak to you.* A large head lifted and the golden eyes of the cat seemed to stare deep into her soul.

Closing her eyes, she reached deep within her mind, her soul seeming to glow a brilliant golden colour before her. Gently touching it with a tentative finger, she found it turned into a similar shape to that of the cat on her bed. Accepting the new shape of her soul hesitantly, she felt a tearing, expanding sensation throughout her body and she opened her eyes as a roar of surprised pain ripped from a newly formed throat. Startled, she jumped off the bed, noticing the ease with which she landed on her paws. Confusion emanated from her in waves and she ignored the calming waves both dog and cat were trying to send her as she scrambled inside her mind to understand what was happening. Noticing the animals trying to come closer to her, she struck out at them, making them back off as she noticed the open window above the bed. Springing onto the bed, she flew through the window and landed in the garden two storeys below with a thump.

*What do we do Kaelas? She is needing comfort, but won't accept it from us!* Ladvarian exclaimed, and Kaelas sat on his haunches and thought about it for a moment.

*Contact Daemonar. He is closer to her and should be able to make it better for her.* He replied before lying back down on the bed and closing his eyes. With a huff the Sceltie did as he was told.

* * *

*Daemonar? It's Ladvarian. There is a distraught female in the garden. Could you please make it better?* The spear thread was undoubtedly Ladvarian, but Daemonar hesitated as he thought about the request.

*What's the problem? Why can't you do it?* He questioned, and felt a bit of embarrassment before the Sceltie answered.

*It is something that I don't have the ability to deal with.* Ladvarian said before cutting the conversation off by severing the link between them. Grumbling Daemonar headed towards the garden, hoping that he would be able to do this with out any help from the others.

* * *

Stretching in the wide open space of the garden, the girl-cat enjoyed the unfettered view of the sky, the rolling clouds working towards easing some of her unease. Then with a start, she recognised the feeling of the cautious approach of a male soul, the edges of its aura tinged with the knowledge of war and the proficiency of the body in the arts of battle. Feeling fear begin to make itself known to her, the girl-cat backed into a corner, knowing that she had a better chance of survival if she didn't offer any weak spots. Sensing the man enter the garden, she crouched lower and let out a growl, the sound reverberating up her throat and out into the world.


End file.
